Parents, who needs 'em?
by Union-Jack2.0
Summary: A bunch of shorts about hypothetical situations in which Faith findshas found a parent.
1. The Bat

Parents…who needs 'em?

**Author:** Union-Jack2.0

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters here. I won't list who does, 'cause it'd take too long.

**Rating:** Still getting the hang of this new set-up on FFDN…say PG13 in the States, 12 here in England.

**Summary:** A bunch of shorts about hypothetical situations in which Faith finds/has found a parent. Gets AU sometimes.

**Author's Notes:** Just a bunch of weird ideas that ambushed me when waking up in the morning. By the way, if you see something you'd like to see as a full-length fic, drop me a review to tell me so and I'll see what I can do. Seriously, I'm willing to have a bash if I know someone's willing to read it.

* * *

**1998**

**Gotham City**

"You _bastard!_"

This scream was accompanied by a meaty _thump_, followed by a cry of agony and the usual noises associated with a human body collapsing to the floor. Faith looked down in contempt at the freak who'd just told her he was her father, then stepped over his body, searching the cave for a way out.

"Yo! Smokin' hot butler-dude!" she called to the smartly-dressed gentleman waiting at the top of the winding staircase. "Wanna show me the way outta here?"

"Certainly, madam," he politely said, pointedly ignoring his groaning employer on the floor. In his opinion, Master Bruce quite deserved a little discomfort for his failure to realise his actions had consequences; in this particular case, a daughter.

She ran an appraising eye over him and grinned. "Say, d'ya know if there're any good clubs in town? 'Cuz I'm thinkin', you, me, an' a dance floor."

Alfred raised a dignified eyebrow, offering Faith his arm, which she took. Who was he to turn down such an offer when it was accompanied by such a compliment?

As the door closed behind them, the Batman still clutched at his tender groin, moaning piteously.

* * *

Crossover with _Batman_. (But you already worked that out.) 


	2. Bill

**

* * *

**

**2003**

**No clue where**

Beatrix Kiddo uncertainly aimed her shotgun at the dark-haired girl who'd just come rushing into the mansion brandishing a broadsword. She couldn't be part of Bill's security, could she? "Who're you? How'd you know Bill?"

The girl looked at Beatrix dubiously. "Could ask you the same question."

"I asked first."

"Fair 'nough. I'm Faith, that bastard's my long fucking lost dad, and I'm here to kill him. You?"

"He got me pregnant, tried to kill me, put me in a coma for four years and took my daughter away from me, and I'm here to kill him."

Faith winced. She could relate to the coma part. "'Kay, you got the bigger claim on killing him. But," she pointed the sword at Beatrix, "I get ta watch you do it, alright?"

Beatrix grinned. "You got a deal, kid."

* * *

Crossover with Quentin Tarantino's _Kill Bill_ films. (Apologies for the spoiler for _Kill Bill 2_.) 


	3. Bureau of Weapons

Yowza. Thanks for the reviews guys. Sorry, I've never seen Law & Order, so no luck there. Let me know if you see something you'd like to read a full-length version of. Here's some more shorts. Harry2: are you sure you're not telepathic?

* * *

**1998**

**England**

**London**

**Bureau of Weapons HQ**

Nick Beckett leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer screen in shock.

Only an hour ago, Ros had successfully hacked the mainframe of an organisation the Bureau had been investigating, the Watchers' Council. Among the data she'd found, there was…_this_.

He reread the file of the Vampire Slayer on the screen before him for the umpteenth time. _He had a daughter._ A daughter he'd never known about, a daughter who'd never had a dad.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Ros smiling feebly at him. "You okay?" she asked.

Beckett swallowed. "No," he said shakily. "I…she…" He waved, still shocked, at the screen.

Ros squeezed his shoulder gently. "Talk to Jan," she suggested. "Take some time off, go to her."

The ex-HIVE agent nodded, biting his lip. _Faith. Sunnydale, California._

He'd failed her for sixteen years already; he wouldn't abandon her now.

* * *

Crossover with the BBC's _BUGS_ series. 


	4. The Professor

**1999**

**New York**

The chamber's doors sealed behind him with a compliant hiss. His wheelchair glided soundlessly across the bridge to the platform in the spherical space's exact centre.

Moving unhurriedly and precisely, he gently set the brake lever, locking the chair in place. He reached for the helm, connected by myriad cables and wires as it was to the console before him, and rested it upon his domed bald head.

Professor Charles Xavier closed his eyes, focusing his mind inwards upon itself – deeper, deeper, until in a single glorious moment it connected with the very fabric of the universe itself. He left his body and Cerebro far behind, letting himself roam the world.

All-too-often he did this to search for new mutants, for his students and his friends who might be in danger. But now he searched for someone who was none of these. Someone he held dear, and had never met. Someone he could never meet.

There she was. Nothing more than a tiny spark amidst countless millions of sparks. Twinkling a little brighter than those that surrounded her, only a spark…but more than human.

He focussed on her more closely. Her image appeared before him, pale and drawn, the blood drained from her face, framed by tousled uncombed locks of raven-dark hair. Clad in a hospital gown, she slumbered now, the closest she had come to being at peace in her whole short life. So vulnerable now. So weak. So very young.

His daughter.

He did not condone her fall into darkness. But Xavier did not wholly blame her for it. How could he: he had no right. It was he who had failed his own flesh and blood. He who had not gone to her when he had first found her a year ago.

He remembered the day well. While conducting a regular search, his vision within Cerebro had been blinded by a dazzling golden light. When it had faded, he had seen her.

Curious, Xavier had looked into this girl's past, delved deeply into the various records kept on her. He had found a truth he had wished false; a truth he had feared and for long weeks denied to himself. But in the end, it was the _truth_. He was her father.

His courage had deserted him. For years he had faced other mutants, soldiers, aliens and other horrors and threats, but he lacked the strength to meet with his own daughter.

And so he had watched her. Seen her fight, seen her fall, seen her, this girl who was so alive and vibrant, reduced to this living death. Drowning in misery kept private, he reproached and flagellated himself for his final, ultimate failure to his daughter.

His failure to Faith.

* * *

Crossover with the _X-Men_ – films, comics, books, any and all. 


	5. The grey man

**2005**

**England**

**Hereford**

**Stirling Lines**

**22nd SAS Regiment HQ**

Staff Sergeant Henno Garvie left the Killing House, MP5 clipped safely to his webbing and unloaded. "Nice work on the door, Louis. Becca, good shooting in there, but you could be a bit faster with those flashbangs—"

"Sergeant!" Henno looked over to see Colonel Dempsey, the current Officer Commanding of the Twenty-Second Special Air Service Regiment, looking his way. Henno frowned at the sight of two civilians with him. Assuring his fellow troopers he'd be along in a minute, he broke off from the pack and jogged toward Dempsey.

"Boss," he said simply by way of greeting. His eyes flickered quickly over the civilians; a well-built bald and bearded black guy who was now restraining his companion, a clearly furious and distraught brunette girl.

"Henry, this is Robin Wood of the Watchers' Council, and Faith." Dempsey paused, looking uncomfortable with the situation. "She's a Vampire Slayer."

Henno shrugged. "What do you need me for?" he asked Dempsey.

Faith was weeping with anger by now. "You bastard…!" she screamed. Going by the accent, he'd say she was American, probably from Boston. "You _fucking_ _bastard_…let me at him, Robin! Just let me at him…!" Robin, holding her around the waist and pinning her arms by her sides, kept gently shushing her, trying to soothe her.

"Sergeant…" Dempsey set his jaw, looking the bald soldier square in the eye. "…she's your daughter."

Henno frowned. America, when had he been there…? She looked to be in her early twenties. And he'd been in Boston just before the Falklands War broke out…

"Bloody hell!"

* * *

Crossover with ITV's _Ultimate Force_. 


	6. The Lord

Yep, it's me again guys! Thanks for the reviews. Imzadi: okay, I'll see if I can rough out a plot involving Xavier as Faith's father. Sorry that Beckett and Henno were a bit obscure for you. Short version: Nick Beckett is from the tv series Bugs which was made by the BBC in the mid-Nineties – I grew up on them. (That's bugs as in electronic espionage devices, not those Disney animated films about insects.) There haven't been any repeats, and I can't remember what HIVE stood for, but it was a (fictional) arm of British Intelligence that dealt with electronic warfare and counter-intelligence. Beckett lost his job with them after the SACROS fiasco. Henno Garvie is the main character of the (in my opinion rather pathetic) series Ultimate Force produced by ITV, another television company from my homeland (which is England, in case you're wondering) and is portrayed by our answer to Schwarzenegger, Ross Kemp. Harry2: if you mean Joe Black's Rainbow Over Sunnydale, yes I've been reading, reviewing and enjoying it immensely. That wasn't the inspiration for Chapter Five though.

* * *

**2000**

**Washington**

**1600 Pennsylvania Avenue**

Faith chewed her lip uncertainly, studying the floor as she waited with Mrs. Landingham in the Outer Oval Office, mind swamped with conflicting emotions.

On the other side of that door, in that famous office, was her father. Yeah, he'd left her and her mom before Faith had been born. But how the hell could he have known? How could he have known she would happen? After all, her mom had given him with a fake phone number after their first date, and then accidentally lost his.

Screw it. Unless he turned out to be a complete bastard, she'd give him a chance.

"Cookie? You look like you could use one."

Faith looked up to see Mrs. Landingham smiling kindly and holding out an open cookie jar. Faith couldn't help but return the smile, vaguely reminded of her first kindergarten teacher. "Thank you," she whispered, her hand dipping nimbly into the jar and emerging with a sample of chocolaty goodness.

"Are you nervous?" Mrs. Landingham asked in an encouraging tone, returning to her desk.

Faith nodded anxiously, chewing on the cookie. "Yeah. I mean, you guys just found he's my dad, y'know?"

Mrs. Landingham's eyes twinkled. "And what about meeting the President?"

Faith's brief frown of confusion melted away and she shook with silent laughter. "Y – y'know," she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes, "I – I flat out forgot about _him_!" She snorted. "Bit of a 'duh' moment there, huh?"

Mrs. Landingham chuckled. "Well, dear, you're the first person I've ever seen to do _that_."

Faith smirked. "Think I could get in the _Guinness Book of Records_?"

The Oval Office door opened and a group of photographers filed out with a White House diplomatic aide in tow, followed by Charlie Young. "Faith?" He waved for her to come in. "They're ready for you now." Faith nodded, hastily finishing off the cookie and following him.

"—as a matter of fact, there's something else we need to talk about, John," she could hear President Bartlet saying to the newly-appointed British ambassador. "A year ago, a certain young lady came to my attention for an extraordinary act that places this administration and indeed the world deeply in her debt. I wanted to do her a favour, nothing much but still…ah, Faith," Bartlet smiled warmly in greeting. "How you doing tonight?"

"So far so good," Faith grinned shakily, eyes on the man who was her father.

"Great to hear it. Sorry to take you away from patrol. Lord John Marbury, I'd like you meet Faith, the Vampire Slayer."

Lord Marbury smiled, shaking her hand. "A true pleasure and an honour to meet you, Faith. I once had an uncle in the Watchers' Council, he told me all about what goes bump in the night. I take it you've prevented an apocalypse, then?"

Faith returned the smile. She could get to like this guy, provided he didn't flip. "Yeah. I wasn't 'xactly alone though – a coupl'a buds a' mine from California and Wesley, my Watcher, they gave me some backup on the research 'n' computer hacking front."

"Still, that's an _incredible_ accomplishment," Marbury praised her, still shaking her hand.

"There's something else you need to know, John," Bartlet said quietly.

"Oh?"

Faith sucked on her lower lip as Bartlet continued. "I had a search run…the thing is, y'see, she's your daughter."

Marbury went a little pale, looking shocked. "My – my _daughter_…? How – oh, god!" Moving faster than Faith thought possible for a regular human, he pulled her off her feet and into his arms. She clung to him as he shook, felt tears dripping from his cheeks onto the top of her head, tears of her own dampening his shirt. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I – I didn't know, I didn't get any word…oh, _god_ I'm so sorry."

Faith grinned weakly through her tears of joy. He _believed_ her. He hadn't rejected her. "S'okay…Dad," she whispered, squeezing him tightly

At length, they finally parted, Marbury keeping an arm about Faith's shoulders as if to keep her from vanishing into thin air. He offered her his handkerchief, drying his eyes with a spare.

"Er, so," he looked at Faith uncertainly. "What happens now?"

Bartlet stepped up to them, smiling in satisfaction. "Faith, do you have anywhere to stay for tonight?"

The Slayer shook her head. "Naw, we didn't plan that far ahead. Wes'll be here tomorrow with our stuff, Henry could only teleport me here in time."

"Well, at the moment the Lincoln Suite is unoccupied if you want it, Faith – and John, there's another suite free the next door down the hall if you'd prefer to stay here instead of the embassy tonight."

Marbury shook Bartlet firmly by the hand. "Thank you," he beamed. "I certainly shall." He hesitated, looking in awe at Faith. She wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled a little closer to him, meeting his gaze happily, badass image be damned. "Mr. President…I believe this is the single most wonderful evening of my life," he finally said, not taking his eyes off her. "Faith, I'm truly—"

Rolling her eyes, Faith held up a hand and cut him off. "S'not your fault. Mom lost your number and gave you a fake. But nothing says sorry better'n a Harley…" She watched him eagerly, hoping he'd take the hint.

Marbury snorted as Charlie showed them out. "You must be joking, I'd have a heart attack just thinking about you on one of those hogs at night. You can have a Jag."

Faith pouted, eyes widening and pout fading fast as his last words truly registered. "A _Jaguar_? Wicked!"

* * *

Crossover with _The West Wing_. 


	7. The soldier

**1999**

**England**

**Hereford**

For Faith, it was yet another normal Saturday morning. School was out for the summer holidays, the weather was great, the birds, bees etc. were singing and stuff, and her dad was on the television monitor in front of her, leading Rainbow's Team Two on another training exercise.

"Hey, how's my favourite granddaughter?"

Swinging her feet down from the console just as Paddy Connelly hit the remote detonator on an explosive charge and Louis Loiselle stormed the now-destroyed door, Faith grinned cheekily at John Clark. "Hey, Grandpa. S'up?"

Shaking a finger in mock-admonishment, Clark sat down beside her. On the screen, Tomlinson had already vanished through the door behind his teammate, with Eddie Price and Faith's father hot on his heels. "Budget meeting, a meeting with intel, and reviewing Team One's performance in training yesterday."

Faith winced. "Rather you than me," she drawled.

Clark snorted. "Brat. I'm taking a break. What about you?" he asked, watching as Loiselle and Price neatly double-tapped the Figure 11s representing terrorists.

Faith made a 'so-so' gesture as repeated shouts of 'Clear!' came over the radio. "Pretty good. Working on a plan to get Dad onboard with the idea that I really am of dating age here and in any other country."

Clark shifted, settling himself a little more comfortably in the seat as Team Two, exercise completed, packed up. "Yeah, I heard from Sandy that Ding and Patsy were talking about that. Peter, isn't it?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "It's _Paul._ Geez, you'd'a thought a CIA agent would have a better head for names." Ignoring the venomous glare Clark gave her, Faith continued, "There's this movie we're gonna see, and I'd really 'preciate it if my date wasn't pissing himself 'cause my dad's threatened to castrate him and gouge out his eyeballs if he so much as speaks to me."

"Hey, it's every father's prerogative," Clark said, grinning.

"Look, Paul is Eddie's eldest son – his dad's _already_ threatened to make the Spanish Inquisition look like amateurs if he doesn't behave himself. 'Sides, hello? Slayer here? He can't do anything to me and he knows it."

Clark winced, memories of Pam and Baltimore in 1970 resurfacing unpleasantly. "No harm in being careful."

Faith sighed. "Yeah, but there's such a thing as goin' _too_ far."

"Trust me, your dad's going easy on you. If he had his way, he'd lock you in a dungeon with lots of stuffed toy animals until you were fifty. Only reason he hasn't done that is 'cause the Watchers' Council would only bust your ass out again."

Faith rolled her eyes again. "Spoilsport."

"Ungrateful brat."

"Stuffy spook."

"Arrogant Slayer."

"Patriarch."

"Rebel without a cause."

"Hey!" Slayer and spy grinned at each other. "Watch it, _Gramps_."

Clark clutched at his chest jokingly. "You wound me."

"When I wound you, you _stay_ wounded."

"And you wonder why we don't lend you our toys very often," came a voice from behind them.

Grinning broadly, Faith leapt from her seat and pounced on the lean Hispanic man, fingers poised as she bore him to the ground. "Nice show in there, Dad," she grinned evilly.

Ding Chavez rolled his eyes, returning the grin despite himself as Faith began tickling him. Indulging himself, he briefly basked in that surge of pride that came over him every time he calculated his luck. Married to a wonderful lady, a father-in-law he honestly respected and liked, and Faith. _His_ daughter, truly a girl to be proud of and the product of a one-night stand when he was only fresh out of Boot, about the age she was now. "Uh – hahi – oh, _madre!_ – Faith? Please? I need to talk to John here?"

His daughter winked as she got off him and pulled Ding to his feet, Kevlar, weapons and all. "To be continued," she whispered, sauntering out the control room door. Ding shook his head. What a crazy – and wonderful – life he led.

* * *

Crossover with Tom Clancy's novels, and _Rainbow Six_ in particular. 


	8. The spook

**2004**

**Colorado Springs**

Harry Maybourne wasn't particularly surprised when Jack O'Neill showed up on his doorstep. He was surprised by his companion, even moreso when said companion, a young brunette woman who looked to be somewhere in her early twenties, literally smashed his front door to pieces with her bare hands. "Wha…? Jack, what's going on—"

O'Neill drew his Browning. Sensibly, Maybourne shut up pretty quickly. "Hey Harry, always an unpleasure."

"That ain't a word, Jack."

O'Neill shook his head at the girl. "What are you, a talking dictionary?" She stuck her tongue out at him. Turning back to Maybourne, O'Neill glared. "Harry, I got two bits of news for ya. First, seems your buddies in the NID're trying to mess with us again, using strategies _you_ devised. And second, this is your daughter Faith."

Faith glared at Maybourne. "Hi, _Dad_."

The last thing Maybourne saw before he lost consciousness was her fist.

* * *

Crossover with _Stargate SG-1_. 


	9. A palaeontologist for a halfbrother

Hey guys. Few pieces of news:

Okay, this'll probably be the last one for a little while. I've been going over the votes here. As near as I can tell, that's three definites for Domingo Chavez of the Tom Clancy novels, two definites and two uncertains for Lord John Marbury of _The West Wing_ (I'm fairly certain that JA Baker and Imzadi's reviews were in favour, but not completely), Xavier has two, as does Maybourne and Bats has one, with no one interested in Bill, Beckett or Henno. That _is_ a good thing, I'm not disappointed or anything – I'd much rather find out from just writing a short piece of fic than write a long full-size fic that no one's interested in. Whole reason I started posting _this_ series – it's a way of finding this stuff out.

Okey-dokey, it looks like the big two are Chavez and Marbury. I'll have a crack at both of them, but due to my relative lack of knowledge of the Clancyverse I'll kick off with Marbury sometime relatively soon. By the time that's completed (or I've been asked to stop!) I should be ready to transplant Faith to the UK to give the Rainbow team one helluva shock. Besides, JA Baker was right – Faith, a member of British aristocracy (and technically of royal blood to boot, Marbury being a distant relative of the royals) – terrifying. But then, so are most interesting, amusing and fun things. And sticking her in Washington for a bit, with regular access to the White House – priceless. I'll have a bash sometime soon.

Thanks for the suggestion, Joe – as you can see, I've reposted the previous chapters. The spelling mistakes have also been removed.

Thanks for the reviews Harry, but I don't know what you were saying here in your last one: "LOL! LMAO! ROFL!" Now, I've heard vaguely of 'Webspeak' and 'Textspeak' – if it's either of those, well, the thing is I'm completely illiterate in them. Yes, I know, it's ironic considering I'm a teenager, but there you go. Sorry. Only language I speak is English, and even that's a bit iffy. _grins_

Imzadi: yep, O'Neill and Maybourne are from _SG-1_. Maybourne is, in short, a former agent for something called the NID (I think that translates as National Intelligence Directorate but no guarantees – it's fictional) which wanted to gain control over the Stargate and take a more 'want-take-have' approach. It was this analysis of their policies, reached after much idle deliberation late one night while nursing a minor hangover (came, saw, drank, got headache) that inspiration for the fic came. (_They work jus' like Faith used to…maybe that's where she got it from?_) For the benefit of anyone on the other side of the Pond by the way, the legal drinking age in the UK is eighteen. Britain: must love it for that if nothing else.

* * *

**2005**

**New York**

Ross Geller stared in confusion at the young woman at his front door. She had a definite no-nonsense attitude about her. "Uh…hi?" he ventured, inwardly hoping she wouldn't put his jaw through the top of his head.

"You wouldn't happen t'be Jack Geller, would ya? Your name was in the phone book, but there weren't any initials."

Ross smiled hesitantly. "Uh, no, he would be my dad. What do you want to see him for?"

She returned the smile, her expression dripping insincerity. "Back in the Eighties, he was in Boston for some business thing, ended up sleeping with my ma, left the next day and nine months later, I was born. Name's Faith. Know where I c'n find the bastard?"

Ross swallowed nervously. This was _not_ good. "Uh, sure. I'm Ross by the way, you wanna come in?"

"Sure." Oh sweet mother of god, the way she was sashaying in those tight leather pants Ross knew he'd have to do three things; one, keep Joey away from Faith at all costs 'cause if they met, he would not be surprised if the universe exploded or something. And second, constantly remind himself she was his half sister, he was with Rachel and had a daughter with her, and third, as soon as Faith left he was so gonna need an ice cold shower. No, on second thought he'd just get a flight to a polar ice cap and run around naked for a bit. "So, whadda you do for a living bruv?"

Ross looked over his shoulder as he scrabbled through the coffee table's dread contents for a notebook with a blank page. "Uh, well, I have a P.h.D.—"

"Whoa, hey! Not what I asked, stud."

"No, it means I have a doctorate," he explained hastily, breaking her advance. "In palaeontology."

"Huh?"

Ross suppressed the sigh, sensing that it would lead to him suffering grievous bodily harm. Right…she was more like Joey than he'd dreaded. "I'm an expert on dinosaurs."

"Oh. Cool, whatever floats your boat."

"Here we go." Ross had finally hunted down that rarest of endangered species; a notebook with a blank page in it, and set about jotting down his parents' current address. "Uh…hope you don't mind me asking, but what do you intend to do when you find Dad?"

Faith glared at him, as though daring him to confront her openly. "Right now I'm thinkin'a tearing him a new one."

"Okay, it's just my sister Monica, right, when our parents were moving house they sorted out all our old stuff. But because Monica's things had been kept in the garage, well, the damp got at them, destroyed them in fact," Ross felt sweat breaking out on his brow; he had the distinct feeling that if he pulled this off his dad would owe him his life, "and anyway, Dad felt so bad about it he, uh…well, he gave her his Porsche."

Faith grinned at him. Not angrily or predatorily, just a genuine friendly grin. Bizarrely, he found himself hoping they'd get to spend some more time together. "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh?"

Faith draped a friendly arm around his shoulders. "So, if you had to guess my brother, what would you say his reaction'd be to an illegitimate kid he abandoned?"

Ah. "I-I don't know. Sorry."

She waved it off. "Ah, s'okay. Just yankin' your chain. Look, thanks man."

"You're welcome," Ross said, plucking up what he could of his courage as he handed over the address. "Look, ah, do you wanna hang out sometime? Y'know, do the whole sister-brother thing? And you could meet Monica maybe – I'll have to check, 'cause she'd probably wanna bring Chandler and then someone'd have to babysit the twins…" He trailed off, and shrugged hopefully. "I mean, I-I really understand if you don't, but–"

"Sure, why not?" Was that a trace of…what, wistfulness? "That'd be cool–"

Faith was interrupted by the insistent banging on the door. "Ross! You in there, man?"

Joey. Oh crap.

Against his better judgement, Ross opened the front door. "Hey, Joe. What's up?"

"Ah, I locked myself outta the apartment again and I need the spare key, I think the chick and the duck're getting hungry. Hey!" Oh double crap, they'd seen each other. Joey peered over Ross's shoulder. "How _you_ doin'?" the actor grinned suggestively. Then again, as he'd credibly proved years ago, Joey could make _anything_ sound suggestive. The phrase "Grandma's apple pie" had never been the same again to anyone in earshot.

Faith, for her part, wasn't even bothering to hide the way she was sizing Joey up. "Pretty damn good," she drawled. "So, I take it you know my brother?"

Joey blinked, eyes darting from Faith to Ross, back again, back to Ross, back to Faith, back to Ross. "Huh? But—? How—? I thought it was just you and Monica…?"

Ross sighed. "Joey Tribbiani…meet my half sister, Faith."

"Don't feel bad bud, I only just met Ross myself," Faith offered. "You doin' anything tonight?"

Back on familiar ground, Joey's well-honed instincts kicked in. "Nothing I can't cancel!"

"Too bad – I already got a boyfriend. Thanks Ross! How's Friday at six for ya?"

"Sounds fine," Ross replied as Faith breezed past him and Joey.

As soon as Faith was out of sight, Joey jerked a thumb toward the door. "Did she just say she wasn't interested in me?"

"Yep."

Joey seemed to slump before Ross's eyes. "I feel so used, man!"

* * *

Crossover with _Friends_. 


End file.
